


Super Dragon Natural Age

by EzzyDean



Category: Dragon Age, Supernatural
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-31
Updated: 2013-12-30
Packaged: 2018-01-06 20:14:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1111061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EzzyDean/pseuds/EzzyDean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean on the run from the Templars.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was all started because of my dearest friend Sehn.

Past exhausted and barely running on adrenaline the two young men were starting to doubt their decision.  It had been over a week since that last little village, if three houses and a barn could even be considered a village, and they had run out of the last of their food a few days afterwards.  The hills and small batches of woods were nearly empty of any type of animal or berry.  They still had water, thank the Maker, for it hadn’t stopped raining for almost five days.  Even now, trudging towards the nearest hill, the grey rain clouds were filtering the evening sun.  On the run for months with the Templars forever only a day behind them, if they were lucky.  It wasn’t exactly the life they had plotted out as children.  Reaching the top of the hill the elder of the two heard his brother thunk to his knee a few feet behind him.  A small tired smile snuck onto his face as he surveyed the land in front of him.

“Hey, Sammy.  Get up.  Looks like there’s a village or something down there.  And the sea, finally.  Maybe we can find us something to eat if you’re done with your little mud bath.”

“Shut it, Dean.  And don’t call me Sammy.”  Dean held out his hand to his little brother and tugged him up from the mud, an act so practiced he barely even realized he did it.  Together they wandered down the damp hill to the quiet little seaside village.  Shaking off some of the mud and water at the door to the tavern they surveyed the place.  It seemed as safe a place as any for now.  They traded some coins for a couple bowls of what they were told was stew, a couple mugs of what they were told was ale, and found a table in the corner where they wouldn’t be disturbed.  As the slightly stale bread they had been given soaked up the last of his stew Sam poked at a stain on the table - a bloodstain, perhaps - with a sigh and looked to his brother.

“So what do we do now?  Just follow the coast until we hit a mountain?  Do we keep running forever?  Can we keep running?”  He hefted his greatsword onto the table with an ease that always surprised Dean and started to clean some of the mud splatters off  with a mostly clean rag he pulled from somewhere.  Sam was always polishing his weapon and cleaning his armor.  Dean always poked fun at him about it but Sam knew his brother was just as protective of his daggers as he was of his sword.  Dean swallowed the last of his bread and ale slowly before answering.

“Sam, honestly?  I have no idea what to do next.  I have no idea what we’re even doing anymore.  All I want to do right now is stuff my face with some more of whatever this stuff is and sleep for maybe the next week.”  As if she had heard him, despite their low voices, the barmaid came over a few moments later and slid a new bowl and mug in front of both of them.

“From the Cap’n.”  She nodded towards the table behind Sam as she grabbed their empty dishes and hurried back to the bar before either man could say a word.  Still wiping at his sword Sam muttered a few choice curses under his breath.

“The Captain?  Did the bloody Knight-Captain himself come after us or something?”  Dean stretched his legs out under the table and shifted, feeling his daggers digging comfortably into place against him.  Once he was in a ready position he finally reached out for the bowl and glanced past Sam to the other table.  Staring back at him was a pair of golden eyes under a blue bandanna.  They were accompanied by a raised eyebrow and an infuriatingly knowing grin, as if she knew his entire story just by looking at him.  He grinned back at her and winked, pulling the bowl to him.

“If that’s the new Knight-Captain, I’ll willingly go back.”  He chuckled to Sam, who glanced over his shoulder at the woman.  ”But I think it’s more likely that she wants something and is trying to soften us up.  So I say we eat this free round of slop and get some energy back before things get complicated.”  Sam turned back to the bowl of stew in front of him and sighed.  ”And stop sighing, Sammy.  We’ll be okay.”


	2. Chapter 2

He cracked his eyes open with a grimace as the ship swayed through the water and his stomach went with it.  A female elf was leaning over him, staring at the tattoo on his bare chest.  Where was his shirt?  Where were his weapon and armor for that matter?  The last thing he really remembered, after the pirates smile as she handed the brothers another mug of whatever poison she had brewed to celebrate their victory, was leaning over the railing.  The wind was splashing a bit of what he hoped was only water up onto his face as he lost what was left of the stew they had been served earlier that night.  With half opened eyes he studied the markings on the elf’s face.  He had run into elves before they had left the Templars.  But this one looked different somehow.  More vibrant, more alive.  Her head tilted and she leaned a little closer, entranced with his tattoo.  As she brought her hand towards his chest, one finger outstretched as if to trace the mark, he shifted and her eyes flew up to his.  He felt his breath catch a little as her eyes focused in on him.  He could feel her finger frozen just a hair above his chest and saw a startled blush creep onto her cheeks.

“Oh, dear.  I’m so sorry.  I-I woke you didn’t I?  Oh and you were finally sleeping peacefully.”  She started fluttering her hands, unsure of what to do, and he couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh.  Unfortunately that just seemed to fluster her even more and her eyes darted from his face to the floor and back again.

“No.  I, uh.  It’s okay.”  Letting out a slow breath he tried to sit up on the edge of the bunk he had been sleeping on.  His knees found the floor as a wave of nausea hit him.  The elf knelt beside him while he got his stomach under control.  She studied his pale face while he studied her foot.  Had all the elves he encountered been barefoot?  Or was she just special?  No matter how hard he tried he couldn’t remember.  Apparently he hadn’t paid much attention back then.  After his stomach calmed some he tried to stand up again and was surprised when, standing beside him, she was able to support much of his weight. He groaned, the whole world was swaying again.  The walls, the floor, his stomach.  ”I’m not doing so good, am I?”  He flashed her a smile as she helped him.

“Well not everyone takes to sailing right away.  That’s what Isabela always says, anyway.  She knows an awful lot about a lot of things.  It took me a few days to get used to it myself.  But I never dared drink her special brew.”  She lowered him back onto the bed with a sigh.  ”Isabela would most likely say you’re more stupid than brave for it.  But I think you two are really quite brave.” Pulling the sheet back over him her eyes caught on his tattoo again.  ”Um.  Maybe when you are feeling a little more sea worthy you can tell me about that?  It looks like it has an interesting story.”

“You like stories, do you?  Well I’m sure I have a few that you would enjoy.”  Two pairs of hazel eyes stared at each other for a few seconds before she hurried to the door. “Oh, by the way, my name’s Sam.  And, uh, thanks for, you know.  Taking care of me.”  She turned around and gave him a smile.

“You can call me Merrill, Sam.”  The elf closed the door behind her and leaned on it a moment, listening to Sam groan as a small wave bumped the ship and his stomach reminded him it was very much there.  Then she shook her head and blinked a few times before walking down to the captain’s quarters where the other man was resting.


	3. Chapter 3

The hammers pounding in his head was Dean’s first hint that he wasn’t yet dead.  The throbbing in his foot was his second.  He opened his eyes into a squint and let the world slowly come into focus.  He was curled up on his side under covers in an unfamiliar room.  A room that appeared to be slowly rocking as he scooted towards the edge of the bed.  Struggling to sit up on the edge his eyes widened and he blinked quickly a few times as the hammers pounded a little harder.

“I’d be careful if I were you, sweet thing.”  The voice in the doorway sounded a mile away and all too close at the same time.  It was the same voice that had persuaded him and his brother to help the pirate get her ship safely out of the hands of the men who were holding it and her friend captive.  The same voice that announced they would get free passage to wherever they chose as their reward for helping her.  The same voice that whispered to them that one more drink wouldn’t hurt them and that they were celebrating the start of a new, wonderous friendship.  ”That stuff can even knock me down a bit the next morning.  And I’m used to it.  A first timer of the special brew probably shouldn’t try doing too much for at least another few hours.”

“Where’s Sam?”  Dean groaned as he pushed himself onto his feet.  ”Where am I?”  He swayed for a moment as he looked around the small room.  ”And where’s my stuff?”

“Well,” she strode over to a chest in the corner, “Last time I saw your dear Sam he was above deck, enjoying the fresh air.  You are safely on my ship, on the way to anywhere, as I promised.”  With a flick of her ankle she lightly kicked the side of the chest.  ”And all your precious stuff is in here.  I didn’t even rifle through any of it.”  He stumbled over to the corner and lost his footing at the last moment.  She stepped forward and caught him in a surprisingly stong embrace before he managed to hit the floor.  Her voice softened as she held him.  ”Careful there.  No need to rush.  Nothing’s going anywhere.  Like I said, you’re safely on my ship.”  He straightened, her arm around his waist his around her shoulders, and took a deep breath.  Then smiled as he studied her face.

“Hey.  You know what?  You smell kind of fruity.”

“Fruity?”  She wasn’t sure if she should feel quite as pleased by the fact he noticed the scent as she did.  She wasn’t sure if the flush in her cheeks was from holding him up or him holding her.  She suddenly wasn’t sure of a lot of things.

“Yeah.  Fruity.”

“Okay then.  I think maybe we should get you back into bed for a little longer.”

“If you say so.”  Dean grinned and allowed himself to be helped back to the bed only a few steps away.  Turning to fall back into it his foot slipped the edge of the sheets.  His foot caught the back her ankle and he instinctively tightened his grip on her waist as they tumbled onto the bed.  They were a tangle of limbs and sheets as the door opened with a gasp.

“Oh!  Isabela!”  The elf at the door was blushing, but smiling as well.  ”He hasn’t even been on board a full day and you’re already, already…” she gestured at them, flustered, her fingers fluttering.

“Kitten.  It’s nothing like that.”  Her eyes drifted down to where her fingers had pressed against the tattoo on his bare chest.  ”Sadly.”  Slipping off the bed she turned her attention to Merrill.  ”What did you need?”

“Oh I, um, I just helped the other one, Sam, back to bed.  He’s resting again.”  She leaned forward and whispered with a shy grin, “I don’t think he’s adjusting to being at sea too well.”  Her gaze focused past Isabela to the man on the bed.  ”Uh, how is that one?”  Spotlighted, Dean looked back and forth between the two pairs of eyes now watching him, one pair wide and innocent and the other sly and knowing and both incredibly curious.

“I’ll be just fine.” he winced as he worked his way back under the covers.  Merrill let out a little gasp as his foot came uncovered and only then did he remember that his foot was throbbing, and why.  As Merrill hurried over to replace the blood soaked bandage Isabela grinned almost sheepishly.

“Right, sorry about that last night.  I really do appreciate all the help though.  Honest.  And my dagger was clean before that happened, if it makes you feel any better about it all.”  She quickly left the room to get Merrill some clean water for the wound and felt his eyes on her until the door shut.  Bringing her hand to her cheek she felt the blush rising for what seemed like the first time in years.  Those brown-green eyes and the way he wielded them like a fine pair of daggers would be the end of her if she wasn’t careful.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a chapter that doesn't necessarily fit in directly after chapter 3 but I don't have anywhere else for it at the moment.

“You do know that letting them on board was a bad idea, don’t you?” Isabela rubbed her temple as she studied yet another chart, trying to decide where to go next.  This should have been her navigator’s job but he had never come back from their little adventure.  Probably ran off to spill all her little secrets to the bloody Templars.  “Weren’t things risky enough with having the elf around?  Now this?”  She gave her first mate a look that he knew well.  The look that meant she already knew exactly what he was telling her and she had decided to do it anyway.  It was a look he got on a fairly routine basis and he was beginning to wonder why she even bothered asking for his opinion in the first place.

 

“Of course it was probably a bad idea.  But I promised them I’d help them if they helped me.  And seeing as how you are standing in front of me babbling away they obviously succeeded in helping me rescue my ship and crew.”  Isabela turned her attention back to the charts and sighed.  “Now unless you have an idea of where we’re going next, there’s the door.”  She dropped her throbbing head to her desk as soon as the door closed.  Her own special brew had turned against her this morning and she rubbed her temples harder.  Of course it was a bad idea.  Inviting Merrill, a mage, along with her and now two men on the run from the Templars was naturally a bad idea.  Nothing but trouble was going to come from this and she decided based on her headache that it had already started.  But it wasn’t like she could have just left Merrill back there and she had made a promise to the men.

 

She had run into Merrill a few months after Kirkwall in some port.  Found her just sitting under a tree not far from the docks absently feeding the birds and staring at the sea.  Barefoot as always and staff boldly set across her knees for the entire world to see.  Isabela would have missed her completely if she hadn’t overheard the merchants talking about an elf mage wandering around the edge of the woods.  She had checked every time she heard whispers in a port about anyone resembling one of her former companions.  A foolish and childish hope she kept locked up that she would one day find them again.  Sitting in the shade watching the crew stock the ship Merrill told her she had been trying to figure out where she wanted to go next.  Isabela figured that the truth was that Merrill was really just lost.  She had been all about helping her clan then it was all about helping Hawke.  Now she had nothing but herself and her memories and she needed something else to focus on.  So Isabela had offered her kitten the sea and all the adventures to be found on it.  Isabela knew about facing yourself and your choices and had always found that the open water welcomed her no matter what and now Merrill needed that embrace.  They had spent the next several months just visiting random ports with no destination in mind.  It had been quiet and peaceful enough until they had docked at the quiet little seaside village. Her crew had been captured and stored in some nearby warehouse.  Her ship had been tied down and she had been slipped a note with demands.  So she hit the tavern to think.

 

She had known the moment they had stepped through the tavern door that the men were on the run.  Sizing people up quickly and accurately had become second nature to her and she had learned to trust her instincts.  She also knew that they were just what she needed to get back her ship and crew.  The taller one with the shaggy hair had a greatsword strapped to his back and the other one carried at least two daggers, probably more and both were dressed in worn but well maintained armor.  The tall one was what she needed most — a nice imposing wall of muscle to help intimidate the creeps who dared take her ship and crew.  The extra pair of daggers would be useful too.  They took a serving of the local slop to a table in the corner.  When the bigger of the two pulled his sword onto the table she signaled the barmaid over and slipped her a few coins to give the men another round.  Watching closely she saw the warrior tense up as the barmaid grabbed the empty dishes with a few words.  The other man shifted, getting in position for a fight probably, and she smiled.  When he glanced up he caught her smiling and smiled back with a wink before pulling his bowl to him and relaxing again.  Her smile grew and she knew that this was going to work out in her favor in the end.


End file.
